


Somebody to Dance With

by ivegottabeme



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:52:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivegottabeme/pseuds/ivegottabeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That first day of 'Booty Camp' Mike calls Blaine up for an unexpected assist. It's all uphill from there - the two quickly become friends as Mike confides in Blaine that he needs his help with something; something only Blaine would understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody to Dance With

"The jazz square, the grapevine, the _step-touch_ ," Mike said, pointing in Blaine's direction with a smile. "The kick-ball-change…and pivot," he said, demonstrating smoothly as he did so. "If we perfect these basics, we'll win Nationals."

There was a pause of admiration from the five other students in the room as his words settled in. They were brought back to attention by a clap of his hands.

"Grapevine to the right! 5, 6, 7, 8…"

* * *

"Great job, everyone!" Mike said, clapping his hands together as he stood at the front of the classroom. "Finn, your improvement in the last hour alone is amazing. Puck, you still need to work on your jazz squares – they're more of jazz trapezoids at the moment. Mercedes, you're blending so much better now. And Kurt, when you're not doing jazz-hands, you're not half bad." They all laughed easily as some of them wandered off to find towels or water bottles.

"For this next section, I'm going to ask Blaine to come up here and help me," he said.

Blaine looked at Mike doubtfully. He didn't even know the dancer knew his name, let alone wanted his help. "Me?" he asked, a hand to his chest.

"Yes, you," Mike clarified, beckoning him to the front of the room.

Blaine exchanged looks with Kurt and gave his boyfriend a shrug before going to stand next to Mike. He smiled when Mike welcomed him with a high five and a handshake.

"Now, I know Blaine is an expert at our last move we're going to work on today."

"I am?" Blaine asked, still bewildered.

"You are," Mike replied. "You and the rest of the Warblers. For you, moving in unison isn't anything new. You guys are the masters of the basic step-touch."

Blaine noticed Kurt smirking from the back row, but he nodded in agreement with Mike.

"Yeah, I guess that's true," he admitted. He addressed the rest of the room, "The step-touch is a _huge_ advantage for those who know how to do it correctly. The entire unit is moving in unison, but very minimally, even if it looks fancier than it is. Then we can use our voices without having to worry about straining them while doing these extraneous dance moves." He saw the others nodding as he spoke. "It's like an optical illusion."

Finn groaned loudly. "Oh for the love of - "

"Blaine's right," Mike interjected, placing a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "We _need_ to master this move, Finn."

"What, so now we're turning into the Warblers?" Finn complained. "So we're going to be copying their dance moves and giving _Blaine_ all the solos? What's next, we're going to start wear blazers?" he ranted angrily.

" _Finn_ ," Kurt said sharply from the back row. His step-brother started looking sheepish, but he didn't apologize.

"Finn, I think you need a break," Mike replied stiffly. "Take five."

"Whatever," the tall boy muttered as he walked towards the door.

"Alright, take it away, Blaine," Mike prompted.

"Right," Blaine recovered. "The beauty of the step-touch is that it's _versatile_." He stepped to the side and tapped opposite foot. "Basically, you keep your feet square and just start by shifting your weight. It doesn't have to be big, it just has to _look_ big," he said while stepping to the other side to show his point. "Once you get going, you can add in arm movements, hips – depending on the song – and even head movements. Actually, you can add in pretty much anything – so long as you have the basic movement down." He looked at each person in turn, saving Kurt for last. They were all hanging on his every word.

"Even shoulders?" Kurt piped up from the back with a hopeful look.

"Yeah, even shoulders," Blaine answered with a smile.

Blaine demonstrated a few more times, snapping his fingers to keep time.

"Okay, let's give it a try…in 5, 6, 7, 8…"

Mike had taken a place at the back of the room, giving Blaine the entire floor. The four members in front of him began stepping from side-to-side.

"Relax, Puck," Blaine instructed. "You're anticipating the next beat so much that you're going off time. Just go with the music," he said, referencing the song Brad was providing for them on the piano.

"I don't think I'm doing this right," Mercedes moaned. She'd stopped to observe the placement of Blaine's feet as he continued moving.

"You're just over-thinking it," Blaine assured her. "The foot you tap acts as your prep-step into the next movement," he explained, demonstrating it for her. "Come on, try it with me."

She resumed the dance step, keeping her eyes trained on Blaine's feet until she was mimicking him exactly.

"That's it," he praised her. "That's perfect – exactly right. Just keep going." He looked around the room. "You guys are doing it great. Better than me, even," he joked. "Now let me see you put your own flavor into it. Just have fun with it. Move naturally."

Kurt, of course, started rotating his shoulders with a slight shimmy as he stepped from side to side. Mercedes was dipping into her steps and snapping her fingers in time while Puck was trying to imitate a vulgar movement as he tapped from side to side. Finn, who had snuck back inside the room was doing some strange, spastic movement with his arms, but it was better than when he'd started out at least. Mike was inserting a quick spin from side to side before he tapped, putting the others to shame.

"That's perfect, you guys," Blaine praised them all. "You guys are really getting the hang of it."

"This is kind of fun," Mercedes commented, grinning as she continued. "Best move we've learned all day."

"I hoped you'd feel that way," Mike said from the back, walking up to the front of the room. "Thanks for the assist, Blaine," he said, shaking Blaine's hand and patting him on the back. "The New Directions are lucky to have you with us."

"Ah, no problem," Blaine shrugged it off, walking back to join Kurt in the back row.

"Alright," Mike projected. "We're going to go over every step we learned today one more time before calling it a day. Starting with the jazz square, let's go. Ready and…5, 6, 7 ,8…"

* * *

"And that's a wrap on the first day of 'Booty Camp'," Mike called.

The rest of the members clapped and whooped appropriately before scattering off to find their possessions.

"Thanks for being a good sport and helping out," Mike said to Blaine as they gathered up their backpacks.

"No way, thanks for having enough faith in me to even let me teach," Blaine replied. "Kurt and I were just discussing the play," he said, gesturing towards Kurt. "Are you going to try out?"

"Ah, no," Mike said, looking downwards. "I mean, Artie already asked me to be the choreographer, so I'll be helping out, but I don't think I'll get any role besides back up dancer number seven." He looked a little disappointed behind his calm demeanor. "That's fine by me."

"Some of the main roles have a lot of dancing in them," Blaine offered. "You'd make an awesome Riff, man."

"You think so?" Mike asked doubtfully. "I don't know…Even Riff has a singing part."

"You always sing back-up," Blaine pointed out. "Which means you _can_ sing."

"Yeah, but the only time I ever attempted anything like a solo was when Tina made me duet with her a while back. I'd say it barely qualified as singing," he said. "In fact, it was a song about…how I couldn't sing." They laughed as Mike filled Blaine in on his and Tina's performance. "It was a riot," he finished.

"I still think you should try out. You never know, you might make it."

"I couldn't…" Mike said. "I mean, as much as I really want to, I know I'm no real competition for the role. I can't sing. I should just stick to choreography."

"I'll help you," Blaine offered. "I'm used to having solos – that's no secret. I can help train your voice. By the time we're through, you'll be the top contender for the role. They won't even consider anyone else."

"You'd really help me out?" Mike questioned. "I'd ask Tina, but she's got enough on her plate already plus she's auditioning for the play, too…"

"Definitely," Blaine replied, not missing a beat. "After how you let me teach today, I'll help you out for sure."

"Awesome," Mike said, enthusiasm radiating in his voice. He looked considerably happier than he had a few minutes prior, as if Blaine would be doing him a huge service. "Really, I appreciate it."

"No problem," Blaine told him. "How about we start tomorrow after school? Right here in the choir room? Sound good?"

"Works for me," Mike replied happily.

They attempted a complicated handshake, but just ended up bumping fists and laughing at their incompetency.

"We'll work on that, too," Blaine added.

"See you tomorrow," Mike said as he headed out of the room.

"Bye," Blaine called before resuming packing his backpack.

Kurt sidled up to him, coming from a conversation with Mercedes.

"What was that about?" he asked politely.

"Oh, nothing," Blaine said, waving it off. "Just giving Mike some advice. He's a pretty cool, guy."

"Yeah, he is," Kurt agreed. "Ready to go?"

"Let's," was all Blaine said as he linked hands with his boyfriend.

The pair walked out of the choir room hand-in-hand.

* * *

"What do you mean you have _plans_?" Kurt asked as he leaned against the span of lockers adjacent to Blaine's

"I said I'd help a…friend out," Blaine replied, still not used to the idea that he might actually have a friend to hang out with outside of Glee Club.

"A _friend_?" Kurt asked skeptically. "So you mean Wes? Or David? Or Jeff or Nick or Thad or Trent…?"

"No, not any of the Warblers. Look, I'd tell you, but I promised this person digression."

"Is it Sebastian?" Kurt asked quickly, practically snarling.

Blaine pressed a quick kiss to Kurt's lips. "You're cute when you're jealous, but no – it's not Sebastian."

"So why won't you tell me who it is?" Kurt whined, pulling his patented pout.

Blaine chuckled. "All will reveal itself in due time."

"I didn't ask for a fortune cookie," Kurt teased.

"I'll call you," Blaine told him.

He watched as Kurt flounced away before resuming putting his textbooks he didn't need back into his locker.

"Hey, man," Mike said, coming up from his other side.

"Hey," Blaine said.

Once again, they failed with their greeting handshake, but they were getting closer.

"One day we'll work that out," Blaine joked.

"You didn't tell Kurt you were giving me singing lessons, did you?" Mike asked.

"No, I want it to be a surprise when you knock everyone's socks off."

"We'll see. I'm still not so sure about this…"

"You're talking to the ex-lead Warbler," Blaine said. "If I say I can teach you how to sing, then I will. Soon you'll be fighting with Rachel for all the solos."

"Yeah right," Mike scoffed as they headed towards the choir room. "Like any trick you can teach me will help."

"You know that trick that people say? To picture the audience in their underwear?" Blaine asked.

"Does that really work?"

"If Tina's in the audience, don't do that," Blaine advised.

Mike nodded solemnly. "I see your point."

* * *

"Let's just start with some basic scales," Blaine said from where he sat behind the piano. He hit the middle C. "Whenever you're ready."

An hour later they had warmed up, established Mike's range, and chosen an audition song for him.

"If you stay within your range, you sound amazing," Blaine told him. "I know 'Cool' is a number where Riff's already dead, but you would sound perfect on it. Plus it's a huge dance number, so you can showcase both of your talents at the same time. It'll kill 'em."

"That's a great idea," Mike admitted. "I was already choreographing some of it with the football team like Coach Beiste asked me to, so we could work that in, too." Then he didn't look to sure of himself. His face fell as he recalled a current conversation he'd had. "But my dad…" he began. "He says that performing is a waste of my time. He says I should just quit and focus on my studies so I can get into Harvard, but I don't know if that's what I want, you know?"

Blaine nodded solemnly. "You believe him sometimes, don't you?" he asked knowingly.

"Yeah, I do." There was a brief silence. "I know pursuing dance would be difficult – there's so much competition and there are so many talented people out there. Sometimes it's enough to make me want to just give up and become a doctor like my father wants. Something prestigious."

"Then you feel like you're spitting in his face by wanting to be in Glee and wanting a part in the musical," Blaine finished for him.

"Yeah, how'd you - "

"Same here," Blaine replied, sadness in his voice. "My dad _hates_ everything I do. There was a time when he didn't – when I had just enrolled in Dalton, he was proud of me because it was such a competitive school. But when I told him I wanted to try out for the Warblers…it just brought back all of our old arguments. He told me over his dead body would his son join a show choir and he refused to pay for anything 'so gay.'" There was a pause as he shuffled the sheet music in front of him for no apparent reason. "So I took it upon myself to save my money and fundraise for all the show choir fees. I wasn't going to let him stop me from doing something that made me happy."

"What does he want you to be?" Mike asked.

"A lawyer," Blaine said, laughing humorlessly. "The one profession I could never see myself in."

"I guess I'm not the only one who's experiencing family pressure," Mike admitted. "What'd your dad say when you told him you were trying out for Tony?"

"Nothing," Blaine replied. "Literally nothing. I told him and my mom at the dinner table after my audition and he got up and left."

"Sounds like something my dad would do," Mike said. "My mom though, she's more supportive of me."

"Just…don't listen to him," Blaine said softly. "Don't let him make you feel like your talent isn't important – it is. Don't waste it."

"Maybe he's right though…" Mike muttered. "Maybe dancing isn't a sure thing."

"You don't have to be what he wants you to be. You can make your own decisions. They're yours to make."

"I don't want to disappoint him anymore. I'd do anything - "

" – _for his approval_ ," they finished together.

"Just let me ask you two questions, Mike," Blaine recovered. "When you think of performing neurosurgery, do you get excited at all?"

"Not in the slightest," Mike answered easily.

"Is dancing – is _performing_ – what you really love to do?"

Mike nodded.

"Then it'll never be a waste of your time."

There was a moment of silence as an unspoken bond of understanding passed between them.

"Thanks," Mike finally said. "I think I needed to hear that."

"I think I needed to say it," Blaine said with a laugh. "Now let me hear the second verse again…"

* * *

"You sound _so_ good," Blaine complimented. "Just remember: don't be afraid to really use that diaphragm and project. Your voice sounds great when it's full and rich."

"I don't know if I can even _spell_ diaphragm."

"The Warblers and I used to have this trick we taught to the newbies," Blaine explained, coming around the piano and sitting down on the floor. "Try this with me."

When they were both lying on the floor, Mike broke out in a fit of laughter.

"I feel ridiculous," he said between breaths.

"Just do the exercise so we can get up," Blaine retorted. "Sing a note and put your hands on your stomach. You'll feel it."

Mike held a note and moved his hands from his chest to his stomach. "Whoa," he said when he'd run out of breath.

"Okay, now stand up," Blaine instructed, "And remember where that was."

Mike's hands were still on his stomach when he stood up. "That's so weird. It's like I'm hyper-aware of it now."

"That's the idea. So now, push from there. Really project to get that full, complete sound."

Mike began to sing.

* * *

There are some things two people can't go through without becoming friends. Being routinely embarrassed in front of one another, singing together on a daily basis, and sharing a common past would be three of them.

It started small; they'd say hello to one another in the hallways, they'd walk together during passing period if they were headed to the same class, they'd sit together during the classes they shared. Then it started becoming more apparent: they would sit next to each other during Glee club and exchange jokes back and forth, they would go to study at Mike's house, or go grab a bite to eat at the local fast-food joints.

Right before everyone's eyes, it was clear that Blaine and Mike were becoming friends. How or why, the others didn't know, but they watched with fascination all the same.

"I'm telling you," Blaine said animatedly, "Star Wars and Star Trek are as equally good as one another. You can't argue with logic."

"I don't know, I was raised on Star Wars, not Star Trek. I've tried to watch those old episodes that still air on the local channels, but I just can't get into it," Mike replied.

The pair sat down in the middle row, oblivious to everyone else as they continued their debate until Mr. Schue walked into the room.

"Do I have to separate you two?" he asked half-heartedly.

"No," Mike said, turning his attention to the front of the room.

"Alright, the auditions for the leads are finished, from what I understand," Mr. Shue said, turning to Artie for confirmation. When he gave him an affirmative nod, Schue went on. "I heard they went great – good luck to everyone who tried out. Today begins the auditions for some of the other roles: the Jets, the Sharks, Anita, and so on and so forth. Now, I don't like calling those 'minor' roles – they're all important. So anyone who's still on the fence about trying out of not, I'd say go for it."

"Finn, won't you just try out?" Rachel whispered to her boyfriend. "It could be fun. We could be in the play together and…"

"I can't," he replied. "I just don't want to, Rachel, okay?"

"Okay," she said in a much smaller voice.

"I'm so nervous," Mike confided to Blaine. "I couldn't even sleep last night. I kept going over the lyrics in my mind again and again. I'm so worried I'm going to forget them. That or a dance move." He took a deep breath to steady himself.

"It's going to be great," Blaine assured him. "We went over that routine so much, you could do it in your sleep. Literally," he added.

"My audition's right after school," Mike fretted. "I just never realized how badly I wanted the role until now, I guess."

"Hey, I'll be there if it'll make you feel better," Blaine offered.

"Oh that'd be great, actually," Mike gushed in relief. "I'm comfortable singing around you, so knowing that you're there would really help with my nerves."

"Consider it done," Blaine said, sealing it with a high five.

* * *

"Wow, Chang. You must've worked really closely with my boys there. That was some really fancy footwork. I just hope you didn't waste too much of your time," Coach Beiste said from the directors' table.

"It's what I love to do. It's never going to be a waste of my time," Mike replied with a small smile.

Somewhere in the back of the auditorium, Blaine smiled too.

* * *

"I don't know what you were worried about, man – you killed it!" Blaine exclaimed as he met Mike in the hallway.

"I know, did you see their faces?" Mike laughed. "When I told them I'd been working on my singing they didn't look convinced. But they didn't know I had a secret weapon."

"Yeah, an awesome voice," Blaine raved back.

"No, an awesome teacher," Mike replied, giving Blaine a pat on the back. "I owe you big time," he said. "Name it. Anytime, anywhere – I'll be there for you, just say the word."

"I may just hold you to that," Blaine said, tapping his fingers together as if considering a nefarious plan. "But how about we go out and celebrate you nailing your audition piece first?"

"Breadstix?" Mike asked with a grin.

"Breadstix."

* * *

"I _can't_ dance," Blaine exclaimed during one particularly trying musical rehearsal.

"Bullshit," Mike countered. "I've seen you dance before."

Blaine shook his head and sat down on the edge of the stage. "I can improvise pretty well during solos. The classic step-touch moves in Warblers' numbers were no-brainers. But this?" He gestured to the auditorium. "I've never had proper choreography before. Not as _difficult_ as this." He groaned and put his head in his hands. "This is what I get for trying out for a lead."

"You're in luck," Mike said as he sat down beside Blaine. "I happen to know the choreographer," he jerked a thumb towards himself, "And he can help you out with any problem spots."

"I don't know," Blaine said, sounding unnaturally unsure of himself. "I mean, you're such a great dancer. I'm the kind of person who has to do choreography over and over and over again until I get it right."

"So let's practice then," Mike said, getting up and offering Blaine a hand.

Blaine accepted it and allowed himself to be hoisted up by his friend.

"Repetition, that's the key," Mike instructed him.

"You have me pirouetting and leaping across this whole stage," Blaine joked. "What were you _on_ when you choreographed this?"

"Shut up and reset," Mike retorted. "Okay, so think about how you feel when you have a solo. You enjoy being in the limelight, right?"

"It's pretty fun, yeah," Blaine admitted.

"You don't care what people think when you're doing your thing, right?"

"No, not really," Blaine chuckled.

"So try and get that feeling with this choreography. Think to yourself 'This is _my_ choreography. I can _own_ this'. I made this routine with you in mind, Blaine, so just power through it. It's tailor-made for you."

"I guess I can see what you're saying," Blaine replied as he walked through the steps.

"Just like the way you sing, really put that _conviction_ behind your movements. That way, even if you mess up, you can make it look like you _meant_ to do that. Dance is all about power. It's about understanding where your body needs to be at all times."

Blaine nodded, taking it all in. "Okay, I'm ready to try again."

Mike queued the music and stood next to Blaine. "Alright. In 5, 6…5, 6, 7, 8…"

* * *

"I'm nervous," Blaine admitted backstage.

"So am I," Mike said.

They were both in full costume and make up, standing off-stage, awaiting their queues. Blaine tugged nervously at the sleeves of his yellow jacket and Mike kept running his hands through his hair.

"Let's just think of it as a rehearsal," Blaine said. "Just like every day after school."

"Only people have paid to get a seat and we don't want to screw up weeks and weeks' worth of practice in front of a full-house…"

"Way to soothe the nerves, Mike," Blaine groaned. "If the whole 'dance' thing doesn't work out, you should look into being a motivational speaker."

"Sorry, sorry. Not helping, I know."

Blaine caught sight of Kurt standing on the opposite side of the stage, peeking out into the audience just like he was. He couldn't help but notice how good his boyfriend looked in a police uniform, even if it was just a costume. They caught one another's eyes and exchanged a smile.

" _Break a leg_ ," Kurt mouthed.

At the same time, Tina walked up next to Mike and took his hand in hers. She kissed the back of their intertwined hands and gave him a smile.

"You're going to be great," she told him. "Both of you," she added, speaking to Blaine too. "Everyone's going to love it."

"I hope so," Mike replied.

Tina pulled him down to her level and kissed him on the cheek before walking away. Blaine suppressed a laugh as he watched Mike turn red and a dazed expression fell over his face while he watched Tina walk away.

"I think we'll be fine," they said in unison.

* * *

"I can't believe I messed up that move," Blaine groaned the next afternoon. "It was that one we repped over and over again. I had it down solid and I still messed it up."

"Speak for yourself, I missed a note," Mike said at the same time.

They exchanged dubious glances. "No you didn't," they scolded each other in tandem.

"I'm just so overwhelmed right now," Blaine admitted. "With all the components that go into making a musical – it's just so much. The lines, the staging, the singing, the dancing – it's borderline insanity."

"Look, you just messed up _one_ dance move," Mike said. "You'll get it right next time. The show's open for a few days."

"Kurt said that too," Blaine recalled. "I don't know, but we just worked so hard on it, you know? I wanted it to be perfect." He rubbed his eyes. "I just need a distraction…"

"You need to add something _else_ onto your workload?" Mike asked sarcastically.

"No, it's just that… overworking myself on all these dance moves is bringing down my confidence. It's making me feel like I can't dance."

"Please," Mike scoffed. "You dance way better than any of the other guys in Glee Club."

"Not better than you," Blaine pointed out.

Mike wore a cocky grin as he thumped his own chest. "You'll never be that good."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the ego boost."

Mike ignored him, struck my a sudden idea. "In fact…Puck just asked me to assist him on this number he wants to try out sometime this week…"

"Oh yeah?" Blaine asked, interested.

"Yeah. He asked Finn to help too, but we can just put him on drums…" Mike brainstormed aloud. "The more I think about it, we _need_ you."

"Is it just singing or what?"

"Back up vocals _and_ dancing," Mike replied. "It wouldn't be too difficult, just something really fun, maybe a little bit crazy. Just something to get our minds off this musical. What do you say?"

"Dancing…" Blaine hesitated. "I don't know, man."

"I have some choreography that will have Kurt _begging_ for you by the end of Glee rehearsal," Mike replied, knowing he was hitting a nerve. "Trust me - I created it with Tina in mind."

"You sly _dog_ ," Blaine said, slugging Mike's shoulder. "So it's kind of sexy then?"

" _Kind_ of sexy…" Mike repeated. "Yeah, I'd say that's an accurate description."

"I'm in."

"I knew you would be."

* * *

"No, seriously, I have a _great_ idea," Blaine said in the choir room the following afternoon. They'd spent almost the entire time goofing off, so it was a nice change of pace.

"Lay it on me," Mike said.

Blaine picked up the mic stand. "What if we have this epic fight with our stands?"

He swung it towards Mike, who quickly picked up his stand in defense. The metal of the stands clinked violently as they swung at one another – Blaine's fencing skills coming into play as well as Mike's undeniable reflexes. They stabbed and lunged, brandishing the stands like swords. The two battled it out for a few minutes across the floor before calling it a draw.

"And you can swing yours around near the floor and I'll hop over," Mike added, enthused about the idea.

They tried it out, Mike jumping and clearing the stand with ease.

"No, no, get this. Then one of us will get 'stabbed' with the stands," Blaine said, half-joking.

Mike's eyes went wide. "It's genius, Anderson. Since I did the hopping, you can get stabbed." He thrust his stand forward without warning, Blaine just dodging it in time.

"Whoa, watch where you jab that thing. I have valuables, you know."

"You have to make it look _convincing_ ," Mike chastised him.

"Oh so now you're having a go at my acting skills?" Blaine razzed back. "I'll have you know, as Tony, I can fake a brilliant death.

"Move with the stand next time," Mike suggested. "Kind of double over and make a face."

"Should be easy enough. Do it again."

Mike took another swing at him. This time Blaine bent over and pantomimed being in extreme pain. Two seconds later they jumped right back into the choreography.

"That's so much better," Mike commented. "Man, this is going to be one of my favorite performances, I can tell."

"Yeah, mine too."

"Wanna go through it again?"

"We'd be crazy not to."

They sealed it with their newly perfected handshake - a low high-five, a fist pound, a move from their routine where their hands waved as if they were fanning each other off, and finally a hand-slide that ended in a fist explosion.

They grinned as they took their places behind Puck again.

"Let's try it again," Finn said, counting them off with a light hit on the rim of his drum set. "5, 6, 7, 8..."

**Author's Note:**

> Whoa, so all of my Bike Chanderson bromance headcanons just kind of combined to make this one-shot. I had so much fun writing it because Blaine and Mike's friendship is one of my favorite things in the world! I'm crossing my fingers for an eventual Blam friendship because I love it when Blaine has friends. Seriously, I practically died during "Hot For Teacher", it wasn't even funny.


End file.
